


Cash Or Check?

by zeigeistofnow



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 1920's AU, Alex and James Are Reporters, M/M, Please Don't Let Me Abandon It, Prohibition, Speakeasies, Thanks, Thomas Owns A Speakeasy, You Know I Did Research For This
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9362579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeigeistofnow/pseuds/zeigeistofnow
Summary: Thomas owns a speakeasy, where he meetsJames, a reporter, working on a collection of essays about prohibition withAlex, who, while researching, runs intoJohn, who just wants to be a good cop /and/ do his job, the combination of which is not looking easy.Please Enjoy.(title explanation: cash meant 'kiss me now', check meant 'kiss me later'. so, yeah.)





	1. Blind Pig=Speakeasy

Thomas leaned forward toward the flapper- she seemed quite drunk. “-And so I walk in on my brother and your friend here necking, and I freeze.”

The flapper- a pretty girl with dark curly hair- giggled. “Then what’d you do?”

“Why, what do you think I did?” Thomas leaned back grandly. “I ran, of course. Now, before you call me a coward, think about this. What would you do?”

She twittered and took a sip of her drink. “What’s it like owning this place?” she covered her mouth, widened her eyes, and whispered, “What’s it like being a criminal?”

Thomas widened his eyes to match hers. “It’s very fun, Maria,” he whispered, like he was letting her in on a secret. “Imagine no one knowing what you do for a job, but still everyone knows.”

“Sounds great!”

“It pays well, too.” Thomas winked and looked around. He caught the eye of a man- he looked almost like he had stumbled into the speakeasy by accident, but not quite. He had bags under his eyes, and probably needed a cup of joe more than vodka.

Thomas whistled. The man jumped slightly. “Hey, bunny, you look lost,” Thomas shouted across the room.

The man frowned at him. He had nice short hair, Thomas thought idly and he wasn’t wearing a fedora, unlike, well, pretty much everyone else.

“I know exactly where I am, thanks.” the man responded, tapping his fingers on the glass he was drinking from.

“Come over here, I’ll buy you a drink.” Thomas offered.

“I have one already.” The man said, pointing to his glass. Thomas admitted to himself that the man was right, but he wasn’t going to give up. Not yet.

“I’ll kick you out!” Thomas threatened.

“Please do. I’m supposed to be writing an article.”

Thomas grinned and walked over, waving g'night to Maria. “Oh, really.”

“Mm-hm. I work for the New York Times.”

Thomas fluttered his eyelashes. “Oh, really? Could you write an article about me?”

“ ‘M not sure you’d want me to write about your speakeasy in the newspaper.”

Thomas paused. “You may be right.” he conceded. “What’re you writing about now?”

“Prohibition. ‘M working with this guy named Hamilton? Have you heard of him?”

Thomas grimaced. “I have, in fact. It was not a very pleasant experience.”

The man smiled. “I relate. How do you know him?”

Thomas took this advantage to use his fabulous ability of storytelling and woo the man in front of him. 

“Well, two or three years ago, I was smoking a fag by the old church, and this guy comes barreling up to me, dragging someone behind him…”


	2. Line=False Story

James leaned back in his chair, listening to the man- Thomas, he was pretty sure he heard someone call him that.

“Well, two or three years ago, I was smoking a fag by the old church, and this guy comes barreling up to me, dragging someone behind him. Now, this guy looks maybe twenty one, maybe younger, and he just starts barraging me with questions. He’s wearing one of those hats-” Thomas gestured to one of his guests, “-what’re they called… newsboys hats?”

James nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “Uh-hu?”

“Well, so he keeps asking me about the speakeasy, and my opinion on prohibition, and some other stuff.” Thomas waved his hand dismissively. “But I’m like, ‘I’m not going to tell him this stuff, he’s a reporter, you can’t trust a reporter with your personal or illegal crap.’ ” he glanced at James. “No offence.”

“None taken.” James smiled. “Go on.”

“So, I don’t tell him. He gets bored of asking questions and not getting answers, so he starts telling me stuff. I wasn’t asking, but he starts gabbing about last year- 1927- and prohibition, and his coworkers- that’s you?” Thomas looked questioningly at James.

“Yeah.”

“-and how he’s hung up on this one cop, and whatever, I don’t know.” Thomas shrugged. “But this guy that was almost dragged in behind him is just standing there- I don’t know why, or how, or whatever. But he’s just standing there, and taking notes.

“And then, the guy finally stops talking, and sticks out his hand. ‘Alexander Hamilton, at your service.’ he says, then doubles over laughing. And the other guy is just smiling- he might have been laughing, I can’t remember- and I’m completely mystified. I still don’t know how the guy knew I owned a blind pig- It’s not quite public knowledge.” Thomas finished.

James shrugged. “ ‘M not sure how he knows half the stuff he does. No one knows.”

“So, what’s it like working with him?” Thomas asked, resting his chin in his hands. 

“Like working with a hurricane. Unpredictable, fast, and nonstop.”

“ ‘S a bit of a live wire.” Thomas chuckled.

“Yeah.”

“So, listen. I’m going to a party this weekend, and I need a date…” Thomas raised his eyebrows. “Are you free?”

James froze. “I- am-ah-um..” he trailed off half-heartedly.

“Oh.” Thomas smiled brightly. “You’re doing something?” he suggested.

“Yes! Yes, that’s it.” James nodded enthusiastically. “I’m very sorry I can’t, but I’m…” he searched desperately for an excuse. “I- I have to work. Alex and all…” he tried his best to look apologetic. He didn’t think he was doing a very good job.

“Okay, then…” Thomas looked so dejected that James said, “Maybe another day, though?” he mentally cursed.  _ You don’t want to date him- or anyone for that matter, what are you doing? _

Thomas nodded. “Sure… maybe a movie?”

_ That sounds worryingly romantic.  _ James thought frantically. “Uhm, sure! Sounds wonderful.”

“Great! I’ll see you on Wednesday… 5:30?” Thomas winked and walked back over to the bar, where he resumed talking to the girl from before.

James sighed and rested his face in his hands.  _ What did you do now… _

Alex was just going to love hearing about this.


	3. Bull=Cop or FBI

Alex sat down at the table. “Just so you know, this is not a date,” he warned the man sitting across from him.

The police officer looked relieved. That was not what Alex had been going for. “That’s fine,” John said, looking around. “Honestly, I’m kind of glad you don’t take people that you just met out. This place is ritzy…” he sighed. “How do you afford it?”

Alex smiled lazily. “I’m a good reporter.”

“So, if this isn’t a date, why do I need- why do you need me?” John corrected himself.

“I’m working on an article about prohibition-” John looked slightly upset- Alex plowed on- “-And I’m trying to get different views. What’s your opinion on it?”

John's eye twitched. “I think it’s terrible.”

“I agree. Why do you think that?”

“It’s so much extra work- and people still drink, the law isn’t stopping them, they’re just doing it illegally now,” John said dryly.

“Not to mention a lot of the alcohol is poisoned,” Alex added, with the air of someone who has done a lot of research. “Bootleggers aren’t going to waste time and money getting ‘healthy’ liquor, even if that's a thing.”

“I try not to bust out speakeasies- they’re not _really_ doing anything, except maybe poisoning themselves.” John continued.

Alex leaned forward. “Keep talking.”

“I’m kind of, um, finished…” John said awkwardly.

“Talk about something else, then.” Alex waved his hand. “Just talk.”

“I have a daughter, and she’s the most wonderful-”

Alex sprang back. “Oh shit.”

John frowned. “What?”

 _Goddamnit, he’s married. Don’t go flirting with married fellas, idiot._ “Oh, nothing.”

“Anyway, she’s the light of my life, and just amazing…”

“What’s her name?” Alex asked, slightly wistfully, he must admit.

“Frances Laurens.”

“Cute.”

“Yeah… she is…” John snapped to attention suddenly. “So, how’s your family?”

“Don’t have one,” Alex said glumly. He should have assumed the conversation would go here.

“You don’t have a wife? A girlfriend?”

“No.”

“What about your parents? How’re they?” John asked, clearly grasping at straws.

“Oh, fine, you know, normal, also dead…”

John covered his mouth. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Alex said forcefully. “I wouldn’t see them, anyway- I was born on a collection of islands.”

“Oh,” John said tactfully. “That’s nice.”

“Not really.” Alex dusted his hands together. “So, how’s your wife?”

“Much like your parents,” John said, taking a sip of his water.

“ ‘M sorry.”  _Wait, he's not married?_

“It’s fine.”


	4. Stuck On=Has a Crush On

John waved over his shoulder. “Bye, Alexander!”

Alex waved, looking slightly mystified. 

“I have a job!” John explained, walking backwards. He tipped his hat. “See you some other time?”

“Sure.” Alex gave him a thumbs up. 

John raced down the street-luckily enough, the police station wasn’t that far from the restaurant. He wondered if that was intentional.

_ Ah, yes.  _ He responded to himself dryly,  _ The built the station right next to the restaurant for that exact reason. Of course.  _

Spinning into the station, he stopped abruptly. “Oh, hey, Jemmy! Haven’t seen you in a while!” He greeted his friend. 

The dark-haired man looked annoyed. “Does Aaron Burr work here?”

John tilted his head. “I think? Maybe?” he paused. “Hey, do you work with Hamilton?”

“Yeah, I’m writing an essay with him right now. Why?”

“Is he nice?” John asked tentatively.

“Well enough… what kind of nice?”

“Like, would you date him?”

Dawning crossed Jemmy’s face as he leaned back. “ _ No.  _ That sounds like a terrible idea. And you’ve got Frances?” He shook his head. “Don’t risk it.”

“But-”

Jemmy shrugged. “Hey, It’s your life. I’m just- I’m just suggesting.”

“Like I’m going to date anyone without your blessing.” John pouted.

“ ‘M sorry, but…” He shook his head. “Don’t ask me, actually. Talk to Eliza, and take her advice. Just assume I agree with her.”

“Okay…”

Jemmy half-hugged his, and raced out the door, muttering  _ ‘Thomas’.  _ John remembered something. Probably something that would come up in the conversation with his boss.

“Uh, hi, mister Washington.” He said, sitting down at a chair. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes.”

There was a silence. “Thomas Jefferson?”

“What about him?” John already knew the answer. 

“I need you to shut him down.”

“Oh. Okay, sir.” John stood up. “Thank you, sir.”

Washington rolled his eyes. “Don’t thank me- you’re the one doing the work. Pretty difficult work, too, if I do say so myself.”

John turned to the door, when Washington stopped him. “You’ll lose your job if you hurt Alex, by the way.” he added nonchalantly. 

“Sir?”

“Goodbye, John. You have two weeks.”

“Okay, sir.”

John left the police station a whole lot worse off than he entered. Taking a notepad out of his pocket, he scribbled down,  _ To Do: 1. Talk to Eliza (How to find Eliza?) 2. Get Thomas Jefferson (HOWWW???) 3. Talk to Jemmy more often?,  _ then stuffed the pad back into his pocket, sighing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo... i still don't know the plot, but i know what the characters goals are, which should be good enough. :)
> 
> (if you can figure the out, comment, please!)
> 
> note: none of them are 'date this person', and you can't know what James's is- it's not in the fic yet. You should find out soon.


	5. beat it= go away now

“Hello, James,” Thomas said distastefully. “You can put the liquor in the basement. Please be quiet about it.”

James Reynolds hefted the box onto his hip and waved to someone just out the door. “C’mon, Aaron,” he called.

Thomas winced. “Quieter, please.”

James smirked. “Anything for you, boss.”

“You don’t work for me…”

“Aaron!” James snapped. “Hurry up. Maria, the vamp, is gonna do something if I don’t get home soon.”

“Maria’s actually pretty nice,” Thomas said slowly.  _ I’m beginning to think that you’re the ‘not-so-great-one’. _

“You’re not married to her,” James grunted.

Thomas tapped his foot. “Please, hurry. I can’t say that I like you being in here, either.”

Aaron stomped in through the door, tracking mud onto Thomas’s clean floor. Thomas winced. “That is- _ was  _ clean.”

“You’re paying us to supply you, not to keep your floors clean.” James snarled.

Thomas took a small step back. There was no doubt in his mind that this was the worst part of his month. “O-kay, then.”

_______

 

“G’ bye.” Thomas waved halfheartedly as the two men left his house.

“I’ll see you later,” James grunted.

“Not if I see you first,” Thomas muttered. He fell back onto his chair- it was his favorite- dark green with gold trim, very king-like- and pulled out a book. ‘Pride and Prejudice.

_ It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. _

_ Or husband. _ Thomas added silently to himself.  _ But, I mean… It’s pride and prejudice. Whatever. _

Thomas looked back at the book, trying to focus.  _ It is a truth, universally- _

_ Hey, you’re going on a date with the cute guy tomorrow.  _ He thought. 

_ NO! You’re reading pride and prejudice.  _ He reprimanded himself.

_ And you'll have to talk to Alex at some point…He's so annoying... _

_ BOOK! IN FRONT OF YOU! _

_ But Alex… and cute guy… _

_ Why am I referring to him as cute guy? _

_ Um… _

_ I NEVER BOTHERED TO GET HIS NAME?!?! _

_ Why am I having an inner monolog? _

Thomas cleared his throat.  _ “ _ Anyway,” he said to the empty room, “I should probably get back to reading…”

_ It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. _


	6. Ritzy= Fancy

“Hello, Alex.”

“Hi.” Alex slid into the seat across from James.

“I, um, can’t be here for too long- I have a date…” James said, ducking his head.

Alex nodded, leaning forward. “With whom?”

“Uhm…” James bit his lip. “It was kind of an accident- I turned him down, then he looked so cute and sad that I just had to console him, so I accidentally told him I’d go on a date and yeah…” he trailed off.

“But who is it?”

James shrugged. “You probably won’t know him, It’s nothing big… you know, just a random guy…”  _ Please don’t persist…  _

“I want to know all the same,” Alex persisted. 

_ Damn it, Alex.   _ “Well, um, it’s Thomas Jefferson…” James muttered.

Alex leaned backward. “Uh, what?”

“It’s Thomas Jefferson?”

“Fella, stay  _ as far away as possible  _ from him. He is  _ bad news _ .” Alex stressed.

James felt slight deja vu from telling John to stay away from Alex the previous day.  _ Karma, I guess.  _ He thought. “I know, I know. I told you it was an accident.”

Alex shrugged. “I went on a date yesterday, but now the guy is ignoring me.”

James covered his mouth.  _ No. John doesn’t place  _ that  _ much weight on my opinion, does he?  _

“Are you okay?”

James realized Alex was staring at him. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Good.” Alex nodded warily. “Because you kind of spaced out there.”

“Sorry.” James apologize. “So, how’s you part of the essays doing?”

“Pretty good- I interviewed a cop, which was my excuse for going on a date with him.”

“Mm-hm?” James did his best to sound like he didn’t already know all about this. 

“Yeah.” The conversation stopped.

“So… is there anyone else I should interview?” James asked casually.

Alex nodded. “If you can find anyone who supplies a speakeasy, that would be nice, you know, another perspective. I’ll talk to dad- I mean, Mr. Washington- he’s the head of the police.”

“Hm.”

“Yeah…” Alex looks contemplative. “Why don’t you think he’s calling me?”

James shrugged. “I don’t know… maybe he heard about Eliza?”

Alex put his head in his hands. “Why does that keep coming up? It happened one time. It was a mistake. It’s going to ruin my whole life now, isn’t it?”

James shrugged helplessly. “I- I don’t know. Maybe you could explain it to him?”

“Yeah…” Alex stared at the wall. “Maybe.”

James checked his watch. “Well, it was nice seeing you, good checking up on progress and stuff, but I’ve got to scram. See you some other time?”

“Sure.”


	7. Swell=Good

“Hey! Jemmy!”

“You know, I haven’t seen you in forever, and suddenly I’m seeing you everywhere.” James sighed.

John looked insulted. “Hey, don’t you like seeing me?”

“Oh, sure I do, it’s just… Yeah.”

John grabbed James’s sleeve. “Hey, I have to tell you something.”

James sighed. “If it’s about Alex or Thomas, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Are you sure?”

James paused, thinking. “Okay, what is it?”

“So, you know Mr. Washington?”

“Yes.”

“And you know Thomas Jefferson.”

“Yes.” James leaned against the wall. “Where is this going?”

“You’ll see.” John waved his arm. “So, you know how Mr. Washington wants to shut down Thomas.”

“Yes…”

“Well, he decided that I need to do that. Alone. In two weeks. Also, I need to be nice to Alex.” John sighed resignedly. “Can you help in any way?”

“Well… Yeah, sure. I’ll help you shut down Thomas Jefferson, but I don’t think I’ll be able to help with the Alex thing… Have you talked to Eliza yet?”

“No, I’m working on it.”

“Good. You’ll like Eliza- she’s great.”

“But you’ll actually help with Thomas Jefferson.”

“Yeah. So, what  _ exactly  _ did Washington say?’

“I need to shut down his speakeasy.”

“Oh, yeah, we can do this.” James nodded, grinning. “I just need you to find out who supplies him.” James paused. “You know what? I can do that. Don’t worry about it. Worry about Alex. That’ll probably be the harder part.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	8. Blooey= Gone to peices

“Hey, dad!” Alex called up the stairs, settling in at his desk. 

“Hey, Alex. Laf’ll be home soon, he can make you two dinner. Martha and I are going out.” George called back down.

“Oh. Have fun, then.” Alex said, putting his hands on the typewriter. 

_ “To whom may concern- _

_     In such a law-breaking time, when the law is so easy to break, and it such the norm to break it, there are still standards, and someone who has a drink of bootleg wine will not be punished as much as someone who commits homicide. This hopefully will always be true.  _

_     I cannot say that I like, or even see the need of prohibition- it is a silly law and has made organized crime levels rise dramatically. It has contributed to the rise of Al Capone and many other mobsters. Oh, yes. And gangs. Please don’t get me started. _

_     Anyway, no matter how silly prohibition is, or how much is disagree with it, I feel it my duty, as a citizen of the united states, to tell the government when someone is breaking the laws that they so painfully put down, and our police officers have so faithfully enforced. I feel like it would be betraying our wonderful country if I were to not tell if I saw a crime being committed.  _

_     So, I will report that last night, at 3:00 in the morning, I witnessed my neighbor,  _ Thomas Jefferson,  _ receiving large amounts of liquor from two men I did not recognize. This seemed to be a normal occurrence, and I felt like it was my duty to report it. I cannot say that I was immensely surprised about what my neighbor was doing- he has always been shady. I hope that you appreciate this tip. Thank you for your time. _

_ -Patroclus _

Alex stared at the paper for a moment, then balled it up and tossed into the wastebasket. 

_ Do I reveal Thomas?  _ He pondered.  _ Does he really deserve that? _

“Mmm…” Alex glanced at the paper in the trash. “Actually…”  _If someone did something, I should tell someone._

Alex reached over and took the paper out, flattening it. “Hey, Dad?” he called.

“What is it, Alex?”

“Where would I anonymously report someone?”

There was a sigh. “Have you been writing again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay! alex fucks up another story!


	9. Smarty= a cute flapper

“Hello, does, um, Eliza Schuyler live here?” John asked nervously. 

The woman on the other side of the door paused. “Who wants to know?”

“Uh, John Laurens. One of my friends told me to talk to Eliza about Alex?”

The door opened, and a dark-haired woman stood on the other side, looked pitying. She chewed on the end of an unlit cigar. “Alex... “ she shook her head. “Save yourself- don’t get tangled up with him. Anything he says about Maria is  _ bunk.”  _ She spat venomously.

John took a step back. “Oh- um, can I talk to Eliza?”

The woman nodded, still looking pityingly at him. “Of course. ‘Liza!” she called over her shoulder. “Boy’s here to see you ‘bout Alex!”

Someone peeked out from behind the woman, a few seconds later, complaining, “Geez, Angel, you’re so  _ tall.”   _ The second woman was wearing a flapper dress and grinning.

“Well,  _ excuse me _ for not having control of my growth.”

The second woman- Eliza- smiled at John. “Alex?”

“Yeah…”  _ Does this happen a lot?  _

“I’ll take you out to lunch.” She said. “I want to hear about how Alex’s doing.”

“Why do you care about him  _ at all  _ anymore?” Angel groaned. “He’s a-” she waved her hands, “A-”

“Word that you probably shouldn't say because dad’s in the living room.” Eliza interrupted.

“Oh, yeah. That.”

Eliza grabbed John’s arm and paraded him down the sidewalk. “C’mon, we can catch a bus to the restaurant.”

 

Eliza sat down across from John. “So, how  _ is  _ Alex?”

“Fine, he’s a reporter, I think he’s working on a few essays on prohibition and stuff…” John shrugged. “I don’t actually know that much. He asked me out on a date, under the guise of wanting to interview me, and…” John trailed off, spreading his hands on the table. “Yeah.”

“Hmm.” Eliza nodded. “Now, tell me about yourself.”

“I asked you because I wanted to learn about Alex, not-”

“I will tell you, but not now.” Eliza gestured, asking him to continue. “Go on,”

“I have one daughter- Frances- and I work for Mr. Washington-”

Eliza snickered. “Ooh.”

“What?”

“Wash is essentially Alex’s dad…” she drawled. “You could be in trouble…”

“Oh.” John stopped and fiddled his thumbs. “So…”

“Yes. Alex.” Eliza nodded. “So, he’s a nice person, honestly, he just…” she waved her hand. “Has both bad impulse control and bad common sense.”

“Oh.” John had a slight idea where this was going. “So…”

“So Maria.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.” Eliza took a sip of her drink. “He was an idiot. I was oblivious. I’m over it, no one believes me. Including him, so I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

None of this made John want to go on a second date with Alexander Hamilton. “...Oh.”

Eliza widened her eyes. “Don’t let this make you think any less of him.” she said, “He’s great, just amazing, but a bit of an idiot. He just needs someone nice.”

“I don’t know if I’m right for him,” John said bluntly.

Eliza looked slightly disgusted. “Well, at least you’re honest. Truly, you don’t deserve him if you’ll give up that easily.”

“Thank you.” John stood up. “I have to go.”

“Bye.”


	10. Declaration of Independence=Divorce

****

“‘G-bye, Maria!” Thomas waved out the window. 

The flapper waved back sadly. “I don’t want to go…”

Thomas bit his tongue. “I’ll help you. I’ll get rid of him.”

“That doesn’t solve the problem in the meantime.”

“Just- I’m sorry to ask you to do this, but please- just a few more days,” Thomas begged. 

Maria nodded. “I can do a few more days.”

Thomas ushered the man out on the sidewalk into his apartment. “James! I didn’t think I’d see you!”

James said nothing, just sat down in the chair across from Thomas. “Thanks for inviting me in.”

“It was nothing.” Thomas waved his hand. “Why are you here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Thomas, have you heard anything from the police?”

Thomas widened his eyes.  _ “Oh, yeah.  _ Yes. Yes, I have. Recently, I was notified that I have been accused of owning a speakeasy. My trial is in four days.”

James cursed. “This was… worse than I thought.” He looked out the window. “Who was that girl?”

“That was Maria.”

“Maria… Reynolds?”

“I think so.” Thomas tilted his head. “Why?”

“No reason. Why was she at her house?”

“Her husband- he supplies my liquor- is a bastard, and so she’s been coming over to my house to avoid him.” Thomas clenched his fists. “He and his coworker, Aaron Burr…” he seethed. “I’m working on getting her a declaration of independence.”

“Good luck.” James smiled.

“Thanks.”

There was a pause. “So, the reason I came over was John Laurens- you know, the cop?”

Thomas smile-frowned. It felt kind of awkward on his face. “Oh, him. What about him?”

“Well, he was telling me about some stuff his boss needs him to do- like be nice, and shut down your speakeasy.”

“Oh…” Thomas pursed his lips.

“Yeah. I was coming over to tell you to just stop, but if you were accused, that complicates things.” James looked contemplative.

Thomas smiled tightly. “Do you want something to eat while you think? I’ve found that often helps.”

James nodded listlessly. “Yes, please. Do you have tea?”

“Probably…”

** “Thanks.” **


	11. Absent Treatment= Dancing with a timid partner

James sat there, drinking his tea- it was okay, but the weird kind that takes like pineapple? Liquid pineapple?- and thinking. “Did you admit to the crime yet?”

Thomas shook his head, his eyes wide. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s ‘don’t admit to the crime until you have to.”

“Good.” James nodded. “Then I have a solution.”

“What is it?” Thomas took a sip of his coffee. James wondered why in the world he was drinking coffee at ten thirty at night. 

“You have to stay at my house until your trial.”

Thomas looked taken aback. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s the only plan I can think of. Here’s your story. You haven't been home- you’ve been staying with me- I can vouch for that, so can the other people in my apartment- and you didn’t know someone was selling booze at your house. You say that that person was James Reynolds- people have seen James Reynolds at your house with liquor, they will believe you. You get out of trouble and James Reynolds gets in trouble. Perfect.”

Thomas nodded. “Sounds great.” He paused. “Do you think John told Washington?”

James bit his lip. “I don’t really think so. I doesn’t seem like something he’d do.”

“He’s the only person I can think of with an moive.”

“But why would he do it anonymously?” James argued.

Thomas gasped. “Then it was  _ Alex.”  _

“Now, I can see that.” James admitted. “He doesn’t seem to like you much.”

“Exactly. The rat.” Thomas stood up and offered James his hand. James stood up, ignoring Thomas’s hand. 

“My house isn’t that far. We can walk. C’mon.” he said, walking out the door.

Thomas followed, thinking about how  _ damn adorable  _ he was, and how  _ god I’m in too deep  _ and  _ I am going to be spending way too much time at his house oh fuck.  _

This should be an interesting few days.

 

“I like your room,” Thomas said appreciatively. It was nice- if book-y and messy. His bed was kind of small and was surrounded by precariously stacked books. Thomas sat lightly on the bed. “So, where am I sleeping?”

“The bed,” James said, as if this was obvious.

“I’m sleeping with you?” Thomas restated. 

“No, I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.” The man said, retreating into his living room. 

Thomas curled up into a ball on the reporter's bed. It was a nice bed. Was a shame he couldn’t share it.

 

“Hey, I can’t sleep. Can I sleep in my bed, please?” James asked, dragging a while quilt on the floor behind him. 

“Yes, of course.”

James laid on the edge of the bed, hyper aware of the Thomas a few feet- inches away. “Goodnight.”

“Mmm.”


	12. Berries=Perfect

Alex knocked on the door. “You wanted to see me?”

James opening the door, nodded. “Yes. It’s about Maria Reynolds.”

Alex widened his eyes.  _ Not again.  _ “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to do that.” he turned on his toe and started walking away. 

“It’s not about you!” James shouted, exasperatedly, Alex was pretty sure. Though it might have just been sleepiness. “Or Eliza! Geez.”

“I’ve heard enough about those two to last me a lifetime.” Alex pouted, but he turned around and stalked back. “So?”

“Marai needs a divorce.”

“I agree. So?” Alex leaned on the wall, closing his eyes briefly. 

“So we need to get her one.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Nothing.”

“ _ Then why am I here?” _

“Because Thomas needs your help.”

Alex froze and peered around the corner. “Why… why is  _ he  _ there?” he accused. “I did not sign up for this.”

“I’m here because James is helping me.” Thomas purred.

Alex looked horrified and turned around to face James. “How- How- I’ve never felt so betrayed.”

“You have to get over your animosity,” James said. “You two need to work together.”

“To help him?” Alex was scandalized. “Never!” He flopped onto James’s couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. James winced.

“He needs your help,” Jame said, staring at Alex.

They had a staring contest, then Alex relented. “Okay, what are we helping him with?”

“He’s going to go to jail, because _someone_ ,” Thomas glared at Alex, James cleared his throat and continued, “-someone told the police about a speakeasy that was at his house? None of us knew about this- certainly not Thomas, he hasn’t been home and it was a shock to find out that this happened.”

“But-” Alex started. James cut him off.

“That’s what happened. Got it?”

Alex widened his eyes and nodded. “Cool. So, what am I supposed to do to help?”

“Write.”

Alex grinned. “I’m good at that.”


	13. Beef= A complaint

John flipped the paper upright and scanned the page.  _ Local Man Falsely Accused Of Illegally Selling Alcohol!  _ The headline screamed. 

_ Thomas Jefferson, a man that lives near me, was anonymously accused of hosting a speakeasy. When I first heard of this, I agreed with our anonymous benefactor, but more news has come to my attention. While it is true that there was a blind pig in Thomas Jefferson’s basement, he had no doing in it and was not aware it existed. He seems to have been staying with a good friend of mine, Mister Madison, and two men, whose identities have not been confirmed, stole into his house and set up show there, attempting to frame him. These men have not been identified, but everyone here at the office has suspicions. I, personally, suspect James Reynolds, an extremely sketchy man.  _

_     James Reynolds deserves everything coming to him. He is very rude and has been known to abuse his wife. If anyone knows a good lawyer, please contact George Washington, who is serving as Maria Reynolds protector until she is no longer married. Thank you. _

John smiled and looked up at the name of the author. ‘Alexander Hamilton.”. He should have guessed.  _ It’s nice of him to help her.  _ John thought sourly and took a bite of his omelet.  _ Let’s see, what else is here… _

John turned the page, ruffling the newspaper.  _… Murderer on the loose. That sounds just great_ _._ John folded up the paper and rested it on the table.  _ No more reading.  _

John leaned back in his chair, lifting the back two feet. He could almost hear his mom chiding him.  _ You’ll tip backward and fall over.  _ She would say. Every. Single. Day. (It had never quite gotten through to John.)

He looked around the diner. It was pretty near empty, which was nice. (All the more likely to not bump into anyone you know.)

There were only three other people, sitting in a booth near the back. One of them had pancakes and seemed quite excited about them.

“Oh my god, these are  _ so  _ good.” Thomas enthused. “James! You should try them!”

John smiled slightly- he had wondered when those two would become friends- then frowned. Who was the other person with them?

“I don’t like pancakes,” Jemmy said quietly. “Alex does, though. Give them to him.”

John froze, and heard two voices say simultaneously, “Eww, no.”

John sighed. (So much for ‘all the more likely not to bump into someone.)

Jemmy, taking a sip of his orange juice, caught John’s eye. “Oh, hi-”

John shook his head violently and made a cutthroat gesture. 

Jemmy nodded back. “Uh, anyway, Alex, how’re you?”

“You’ve already asked me that multiple times.” Alex retorted.

“ _ Sorry.”  _

“Don’t be mean to Maddie.” Thomas scolded him.

“ ‘ _ Maddie? _ ’”

Jemmy blushed.

John grinned.  _ Oh, fuck it.  _ He stood up and walked over. “Oh, hey, guys.”

Jemmy, still blushing, looked up at him. “Hi, John.”

“Laurens!” Alex exclaimed. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Jemmy’s eyes widened. “Oh god.” he stared at John. “So, you talked to Eliza? Did she tell you what an awesome guy Alex is? And how only the best deserve him?”

Thomas coughed. “ _ Well, I’m not quite sure about that…”  _

Jemmy elbowed him.

Alex looked confused. 

John smiled tightly. “Why, she did. She also told me about Maria.”

Thomas cackled.

Jemmy shook his head sadly.

Alex threw his hands up. “Why?  _ Why does that keep coming up?”  _ He looked accusingly at Jemmy. “Did you tell him to talk to Eliza? Is this your fault?”

Jemmy, looking very intimidated, nodded meekly.

Alex stared at him for a moment, then stormed out of the restaurant.

Thomas sighed. “Well, there he goes. John, sit down, will you?”


	14. Tight=Atractive

Alex walked all the way home, but halfway through he cooled down and started thinking.  _ You know, the phrase ‘stormed out’ is actually pretty awesome. Imagine if it was literal.  _

At his house, Washington was waiting for him, sitting on the couch, his arms crossed. “I have gotten multiple calls from men asking about Maria Reynolds and referring me to a lawyer named John Jay.” He raised his eyebrow. “Do you have anything to do with this?”

Alex shifted his weight. There was silence. “She needs help!” He burst. “He husband is…” he gestured helplessly. “She… she needs help, dad.”

George stared at him for a while, then said, “Ask Martha about it. She can probably handle it. She’s-”

“Yes, I know, your wife is a social worker, she knows all of this stuff, she’s an expert. I’ll ask her, dad.”

George looked slightly hurt. “Alex-”

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry, now I have to-” he paused, “You know what?”

“No.”

“That was a rhetorical question. I need to talk to someone.” Alex said, grabbing his hat off the hook. “I’ll be back by dinner. Can you ask Martha about Maria?”

“Sure, son.”

“Don’t call me son.” Alex snapped.

“You call me dad.”

“‘S different.”

“Really.”

“G’bye, dad.”

“Bye, son.”

“ _ Don’t call me son!”  _ Alex responded, hopping out the door.

 

“Hey, John?” Alex leaned against the pay phone poll, “I was wondering if we could meet up at the, uhm, midnite diner?”

“I don’t really want to talk to you right now,” John said.

“Please, John. I need to explain.”

“I’m taking care of Frances. She’s explaining how to play dolls and is messing with the phone cord.”

Alex squealed. “Can I meet her? Please?”

There was a sigh. “I’ll meet you at the park. See you then.”

“Bye!” Alex trilled and hung up.

 

The park was busy. There were a lot of old men reading newspapers and a few flappers with dogs. Alex spotted John right away, he was at the swingset, pushing a girl that looked about four. The girl had freckles and short curly hair.

“Laurens!” Alex grinned, “I’m sorry!”

John rolled his eyes. “Maybe talk a bit quieter? Come over here.”

The little girl- Frances- grabbed her dad’s sleeve. “Who’s that?” she asked her dad.

John raised his eyebrows at Alex. “Someone who has a lot of explaining to do.”

“It was one time, and I was blackmailed, and everyone keeps bringing it up even though no one actually cares anymore, except me- you heard Eliza, she’s forgiven me. And Jemmy’s just hyperparanoid that if I don’t tell someone about Maria when they do eventually learn then they’ll be very upset, which is probably true, I mean…” Alex gasped, “And I really do like you- and don’t say that I can’t really like you because of one date, because my dad- your boss- has been telling me about how awesome you are and how funny, and how I would like you- and I do like you and-” Alex took a breath, “and-”

John pushed his daughter- she giggled- and put a finger to Alex’s lip. “Shh.”

“No. I’ll talk all I want.” Alex protested.

John laughed. “You really have no idea how to apologize, do you.”

“ ‘ve never done it before.” Alex pouted. “You’re the first person I’ve decided is worth saying sorry to.”

John widened his eyes, then sighed. “You’re hopeless.”

“Please don’t insult me.” 

“I can hardly help but, you’re so ridiculous.”

“Stop it!”

“You’re cute.”

“Thank you.”


	15. Cash= A kiss

“Do you play chess?” Thomas asked, looking at a chess board of Maddie’s. It was nice and had non-plastic pieces

Maddie rolled his eyes, looking up from his book. “If I didn’t, why would I have a chess set?”

“You might have a chess-inclined friend?” Thomas suggested, taking down the game and placing it on the coffee table. “Would you play with me?”

James sighed. “Thomas, I’m reading.”

“I’ll kiss you if you play.”

“Is that supposed to be an incentive?” Maddie asked, turning the page of his book.

“Yes.”

Thomas groaned. “I’ll kiss you if you don’t play.”

“So, you’ll kiss me either way?” Maddie asked.

“Yes.”

“Then why should I play?”

Thomas paused, pondering that. “Because you’re a nice person?”

“Are we sure about that?”

“Pretty sure, yes,” Thomas said. “You’re helping me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe that’s because I like you, and not because I’m a nice person.”

“You like me?”

James sighed and put down his book. “You are the most annoying, irresponsible, idiotic, irritating person I know, but sure. Yes, I do like you.”

Thomas nodded, sat back down, and put the chess set back on the table.

James put his hand on his book warily. Was he supposed to go back to reading? Or was Thomas going to say something?

“I like you too,” Thomas said.

“Oh.” James picked up his book.

Thomas walked over and sat down by him. “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t read.” Thomas poked his arm.

“What do you suggest I do instead?”

“Kiss me.”

“Smooth.” James snorted.

“Please?” Thomas grinned, laying his head on James’s lap. 

James paused. 

Thomas fluttered his eyelashes.

James leaned down and kissed him. 

Thomas pushed him up and grinned triumphantly. “Ha! Now you have to play chess with me!”

“What?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo... this chapter was not the best I've written... :\
> 
> but i was impatient. so. yeah. there.


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